Ages ago I wrote something about reality TV which recoiled from a PERVERTED MEDIA DICTATORSHIP. These days it seems less and less like a joke, obviously, and I’m literally putting things in boxes so I’ve no time for airy cultural speculation in a bloggy solipsistic stylee, but if I did I might try and make a very obvious point about the relationship between power and light-entertainment, cos all these wanking on ice shows are doing my head in. I would also try and squeeze something in about how, to me at least, light entertainment represents a kind of flipside of the hauntology idea. Ah, see, this opens up as I type it, and I have to go to the post office to send a Sizzla LP to a Frenchman called Champ. I suppose I enjoy the implied nostalgia of the Ghost Box aesthetic, even if its earnest, progressive paternalism is shot through with melancholy and the fraught edge of childhood experience, but I remember another 70s. With regards to hypnogogia, I certainly remember another 80s. But yeah, Brucie: He Lives etc.

Apparently Damon Albarn referrred to X Factor disparagingly as the Karaoke Coliseum. Good phrase. I went out with his sister’s boyfriend’s sister for a while – did you know?